Sara: As the daughter of Senator and presidential hopeful Jentsen Holbrook, I spent a good deal of my life under public scrutiny. What I wore. Where I went. Who I dated. It was just the way of things. I’d become what was expected of me, until I ran from my obligations and woke up one morning in Cross de Raven’s and Eryk Hale’s world, two hot guitarists from the mega-famous metal band, Cinder. For the first time, freedom to be myself was within my reach. And along with that? Inevitable scandal.Eryk: True beauty walked into my life, more beauty than I ever deserved. I partied hard. Rocked harder. I wasn’t good enough to touch Sara’s petal-soft skin, hold on tight, or love her, but regardless of my bad boy ways, no one was going to stop me from trying.Cross: Sometimes, no matter how hard we fight for what we want, love won't save the day, and truth doesn't always set you free. Then again… Maybe, just maybe, when you find the one you’ve been searching for, love can find a way.

After a second encore song, the band exited the stage for the last time. I’d been so preoccupied watching Cinder perform for the previous couple of hours that I hadn’t thought of my father, Pierce, or the trouble I’d caused myself by leaving D.C.

I gave Briar a quick cuddle of gratitude.

My body buzzed. My ears had a strange sort of woom, woom, hum-thing happening. An odd combination of energy and weariness spread through my limbs as if I’d just run a marathon, though I still had a few
more miles left in me.

Briar’s eyes were bright, face aglow. “I saw you shaking your thang during the last few songs. Was that the best show on the planet or what?”

“It so was,” I agreed.

“God.” She did a fist pump. “I can’t believe we’re going to the after party.” Briar grabbed her hair, lifted the long strands, and fanned the back of her glistening neck. “I’m totally going to hit up Fade for his autograph.” She dropped her hair and pointed to the girls highlighted by the low-cut shirt she’d worn. “It’s going here, and then I’m getting it permanently inked.”

I’m sure my eyebrows flew up into my hairline. “You’re seriously going to tattoo his name over your right breast?”

“Oh yeah I am.” She gave me the once over, reaching for my shirt. “Unbutton some of these.”

“Hey!” I protested, swatting at her busy fingers.

“Be proud of those, babe, and show a little flesh.” Two of my button’s plinked on the floor.

So much for re-buttoning.

“That’s better,” she said, appearing pleased.

I glanced down to see a peek of my pale skin. Thankfully I wasn’t too indecent.

Briar had the whole badass rocker-chic thing happening with her dark, smudged eye-makeup, plaid school-girl skirt, and combat boots. And the looks flung my way pretty much confirmed I stuck out like a sore thumb as we were being herded in the direction of the after party.

Holding onto my hand, Briar took charge and tugged us through not one, but two security checks. My Donna Karan floral print blouse, tan capris, sweat-laden face, and blonde bedraggled hair separated me from the pack of other salivating women—and men—begging to go where we were headed.

More crazy lights, bumping music, a bevy of voluptuous, half-dressed girls pole-dancing on a raised, slowly spinning platform greeted us as we walked through the door.
More girls, wearing skin-tight, Unchained Chaos Tour shirts, and cheek-baring short-shorts served finger food and booze.

Briar snagged a beer from one of the passing booty-gals. “Here,” she said, shoving the drink at me.

The beanie and the mirrored shades he wore on stage were gone, freeing his black, shoulder-length hair, and displaying the features of his perfect male-model face, unleashing a devastating pair of chocolate colored eyes.

His gaze swung to me. “Are you a ‘huge fan,’ too?”

Heat spiraled up from the depths of my core and warmed my cheeks. “Uh. Um…” I took a breath. “Well—”

“This is her first concert,” Briar said while making moon eyes at him, saving me from being a monosyllabic moron.

Cross tilted his head and took me in, from the toes of my mini-wedges to the top of my head. “You don’t say.”

I just nodded and shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting like an idiot.

“Who ya got cornered here?” Eryk asked, strolling up beside Cross.

Briar squeed her delight and grabbed onto my arm, jostling the bottle I held in a death grip. “I’m Briar Scott,” she said, “and this is Sara.”

The strobe lights pinged off one of the metal rings in Eryk’s ear as he tore his steel-gray gaze from me and over to Briar. “Nice to meet you, Briar Scott.”

Another high pitched squeak fell from her pretty, plump lips. “You, too.”

“What do you say to joining us over there?” Eryk nudged his head in the direction of a plush grouping of leather chairs and a raspberry-colored, crushed-velvet couch where several people had started to congregate.

Some bleached-blonde girl lifted her shirt and flashed her large, bare breasts at Fade when he walked in.

“Uh—” My mind and voice failed me. This was so much more than a new world. I’d entered an alternative universe.

“We’d be happy to join you guys,” said Briar, hip-checking me.

Eryk’s eyes flashed and one side of his sexy mouth quirked up into a crooked, sinful grin as he looked at me. “I promise.” He gently ran the tip of his finger down my cheek, causing goose bumps to riddle my skin. “We won’t bite.”

Cross held out a big hand for me. “Speak for yourself, Hale.” He gave me a bone melting grin.

On the inside, I swooned. On the outside, I gave him my proper, practiced smile before reaching out, feeling the warmth of his long, strong, fingers wrap around mine and sucked in a breath. I swear an electric current zapped up the length of my arm from where we touched and set off a chain reaction, causing the baby-fine hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end.

Eryk slung his arm around Briar’s shoulders, and she melted into his side as the four of us made our way through the energetic, loud gathering.

Apparently, I’d be partying with the rock stars tonight.

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About LondonLondon Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.

As an award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.
A complete list of London’s books can be found on her website http://www.londonsaintjames.com. You can also e-mail London with any questions or comments at London@londonsaintjames.com. She loves to hear from her readers.